My One and Only You
by QuotethTheRaveneth
Summary: The world is weak, he thinks. Yet, seeing her pained expression had broken him a little. Because love makes you vulnerable, and vulnerability is a weakness. Mercy makes him weak, and he hates her for it.


_**Author's**_ **_Note:_** Hello! My name is Abigail, and Jacob Seed is my new fetish.

Just a warning before reading this, I wrote this oneshot completely for self-indulgence sake and not everything is fact checked because of that. However, feel free to give me your constructive criticisms if you so choose, as that is the only way that I can grow as a writer. I also have a tumblr (mysuiciderecovery) if you feel more comfortable giving feedback there.

 **My One and Only You**

 _Don't crack._

Easier thought than done. Even as Jacob sits in the passenger seat of his pickup, while Peaches drives them to the Grand View Hotel, his leg won't stop bouncing. His thumb gently rubs the wedding band on his left hand. Even his own heart betrays him, beating erratically within the confines of his ribcage.

After he'd received word that his hunters had captured his wife three days ago, he's been anxious to see her. It's been weeks since the last time he held her in their bed. If he thinks on that moment hard enough, he can feel the warmth of her body underneath his, the spicy floral scent of her shampoo filling his mind. He can hear her moans of pleasure echo through his thoughts as he thrusts into her slick heat over and over and over.

 _You are strong._

She'd left for a week the next morning. A stakeout, she'd signed to him. She was lying. He knows his pretty little wife like the back of his hand and could see the lie written all over her face the moment her hands formed the words. Still he trusted her, so he let her go.

Then the day came, the one his brother had been prophesying all these years. She'd walked through those white doors in Joseph's church, Sherriff Whitehorse and a U.S. Marshal on either side of her as though they were her guardians. Jacob had never felt so angry to see her there. The betrayal had pierced his heart harder than anything. As she put the cuffs on his brother, bile bubbled up his throat and threatened to spew from his mouth.

When he met her, he thought that _he_ was the hunter, but it turned out he was the prey. During the time he'd known her, she'd torn him open, climbed into his heart, and made a home for herself there without him ever even realizing it. She'd destroyed the walls he'd built around himself effortlessly. Yet, through all of it he'd lied to her. He never told her the truth about the cult, and as she cuffed Joseph, he could see the hurt clearly in her violet eyes.

 _The world is weak,_ he thinks. Yet, seeing her pained expression had broken him a little. Because love makes you vulnerable, and vulnerability is a weakness.

Mercy makes him weak, and he hates her for it.

She'd done the impossible too. After she'd liberated Dutch's Island and started the Resistance, she went and took over Holland Valley and the Henbane River. Not a single Peggie remained in those areas. She'd liberated John and Faith too. Not killed them, _liberated_ them. Mercy had somehow been able to convince them to turn their backs on Joseph and follow her instead. They'd burned down all the Bliss fields and destroyed all their silos and shrines, _willingly_.

Joseph had preached about how the antichrist would appear during the end of the world, convincing people to believe and trust in them. That they would lead everyone to hell. _I saw when the Lamb opened the First Seal, and I heard as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts say, come and see…_ Joseph had said in his church that fateful night, the silence thick and heavy all around them _…and I saw, and behold it was a white horse…_

… _and Hell followed with him,_ he'd said as he faced Mercy, holding his hands out to her. Jacob's wife, the supposed antichrist. Jacob isn't even sure if he believes in God, much less there being an antichrist, and especially his wife being this so-called prophet of evil. She's just so… _good_. Tales of her benevolence have spread throughout all of Hope County. How she takes in everyone, no matter their past, no matter who they are. How she liberates outposts armed with only a slingshot and a shovel. Only killing when it's absolutely necessary. Capturing any Peggies she comes across and keeping them imprisoned until they are "reformed".

Mercy really is living up to her namesake, and Jacob hates it. He hates it because it makes him look weak to be married to someone like that. He hates it because she entrances him with that compassionate disposition of hers. He hates it because he knows that someone with an attitude like hers is weak, and she'll never be able to survive any of his trials, no matter what Joseph says and believes. And he hates, hates, _hates_ the feeling that he gets when he imagines having to kill her, having to _cull the herd_.

She is his weakness. He knew that when he asked her to marry him five years ago.

 _I must do what needs to be done,_ he thinks as the sound of his voice from the loud speakers drags him out of his musings. They pull into the parking lot, next to the cages where they keep their prisoners. Jacob's heart rate elevates even higher as he gets out of his vehicle, Peaches following close behind him like a dog following its master.

Jacob takes in a deep breath and looks up towards the moon, high in the sky, before taking his first step towards the cages. He carefully scrutinizes each prisoner, looking for the raven-haired beauty that is his wife. Each individual cage has about two or three people in them, mostly men, all of them apart of the Whitetail Militia. With each and every step he takes, his mouth becomes increasingly dry, and his breath catches in his throat when he finally sees her.

She's laying there in the center of her cage, alone. Her cheeks have become more sunk in since the last time he's seen her, and he can see heavy dark circles formed on the delicate skin beneath her violet eyes, still clouded over and rimmed red from the Bliss coated arrow that'd been used to catch her. Her black hair hangs to her shoulders in loose curls, and Jacob wants nothing more than to run his fingers through it and bury his face within her tresses. She's gotten skinnier too, he realizes, though it's hard to tell with the camouflage sweater she's wearing. Above her left breast is her worn button that says, _Hello! My name is Mercy._ Her legs are clad in those skinny jeans she always likes to wear, dirty and torn from the wilderness. He feels the barest hint of a smirk pull at his lips when he sees her muddy bright yellow boots. She must've gone back to their cabin to get them at some point.

Then a strange feeling overtakes him as he stares at her. It was the same feeling he had after seeing his brothers after so long apart. God, he _missed_ her. He wants her to come back to the bunker with him where they can live out the rest of their days, without the fear of what may come.

 _Don't crack._ But he does. Oh, how badly he shatters at the sight of her. Joseph will be so disappointed, but Jacob doesn't care. He is not afraid of him, not like John and Faith are.

He searches through the keys on his keyring until he finds the one for her cage. The moment the latch clicks, she is alerted to his presence. Her head snaps to him, and he can already see the tears forming at the waterlines of her eyes and her bottom lip quiver, and he hates it. Hates it because it's weak and pathetic, but also because of the way it makes him feel.

The door creaks loudly as he pulls it open, and she tries to stand. Her legs quake beneath her as she takes her first step, and she starts to fall. If she were any other person, he'd just let her drop. But this is his wife, his family, and he won't let her look weak in front of his people. _Their_ people. He bounds forward before her knees can touch the ground, capturing her upper arms in a tight hold and pulling her back up on her feet.

Her gaze captures his own as she looks up at him. Sometimes he gets lost in her eyes, drowns himself in the deep violet of them. A quiet sob escapes her mouth as she lifts her hand to his face. He inwardly revels in the feel of her thumb caressing the scarring across his cheek after so long without her tender touch.

He grabs ahold of her wrist and hesitantly pulls her hand away from him. "Can you walk?"

From the blank look in her eyes, he almost thinks that she can't understand him. He wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't. She hasn't been exposed to the Bliss as long as him and his family have. There is no way she knows how to bend it to her will yet. Unless Faith taught her.

She seems to hear him, though, because she nods. He releases her arms and leaves the cage, hearing her footsteps shuffle after him. He turns to one of the Peggies standing guard outside her cage. "I'll be back to condition these soldiers tomorrow morning. I'm taking my wife back to the veteran center."

No one has any objections, not that they would voice them if they did. Jacob's people fear and respect him, and they would never question him. They even respect his wife to some extent, he notices. Though it's obvious she hasn't had a morsel of food or drop of water since she came to the hotel, she's not bruised or cut up like all the other prisoners and had been given a cell all to herself.

She is still a Seed, after all. These people worship her just as much as they do him, his brothers, and Faith.

Mercy hobbles behind him almost drunkenly as they make their way to the truck. He opens the passenger side door, holding her arm to help her in. It's a struggle for her, and she groans when she pulls her leg over the step. He notices the small round hole in her jeans, and seethes at the thought of one of his men pulling her pants off to bandage her wound.

He follows in after her as she scoots over to the middle seat. He slings his arm around her possessively, pulling her closer to him until her head rests against his shoulder. He touches his lips softly to the top of her head, lightly inhaling her scent. She smells fresh, like grass and pine and something wild. It gets him half hard. However, he can't think about the sinful things he wants to do to his wife right now.

"You're not going to run away again," he says, his voice low and rasping. "You're _mine_."

She startles when the driver's side door opens, and Peaches slides behind the wheel. Mercy makes a small sound almost like a whine when she looks at him, and her hand lifts as if she means to grab hold of his shoulder. Jacob clutches her wrist within his grasp and pulls her hand away, taking care so he doesn't hurt her.

"Don't touch him," he growls.

The rest of the ride is spent in strained silence. When they make it to the veteran center, Jacob can already see the look of wonderment on his warriors' faces at the sight of Mercy. No doubt they're looking on it as though it's a miracle, as though she's finally decided to return to them. He has to admit; his men did seem to be a little more on edge since she'd left. Having her here will help boost morale, he knows.

He would never admit it, but he'd felt lost without her near.

He pushes open his door and slides out of his seat, turning around, and holding his arms out to help Mercy down. She looks at his outstretched hands before shaking her head, pulling herself out without his help. When her feet hit the ground, she almost falls to her knees, and she moans loudly, grasping at her leg. He holds his hands out to try and keep her steady, but she slaps his hands away from her, folding her arms across her chest and looking to the ground. His anger spikes at that, but he lets it slide for now.

After she moves out of the way he closes the door behind her. She looks around the courtyard of the veteran center, her eyes going wide as she notices the cages. Even though "Only You" is playing at full blast over the speakers, the moans and groans of his prisoners can still be heard. Jacob reaches to touch her shoulder, hoping to bring her attention back, and she flinches from his touch when his fingertips barely graze her shoulder blade, averting her eyes to the ground.

Jacob turns and addresses Peaches. "Go and see if there's anything for my wife to eat," he orders. The Deputy gives him a quivering _Yes, sir,_ before walking quickly through the front doors. Jacob motions for Mercy to follow him. "Welcome to your new home, Pup."

She follows close behind him as they make their way through the center to the third floor. He opens the doors to his office, moving to the side to allow her to enter first. It's hard for him to tell what she's thinking as she walks around the room, looking at the papers on his desks and the notes he's pinned to the walls. Her eyes scan over the small bed against the left-hand wall.

"We'll have to sleep close tonight. I'll have a bigger bed moved in here tomorrow," he tries to reassure her, though the news doesn't seem to faze her in any way.

He sighs, closing the doors behind him and grabbing the ashtray and pack of cigarettes from one of his many desks. "I need a smoke," he says walking out onto the balcony. If she weren't here, he'd have just smoked inside, but the smell of tobacco makes her sick. He places the ashtray on the railing, pulling a cigarette from his pack. Withdrawing a lighter from his pocket, he lights his cigarette, taking a long draw. He hears rummaging behind him, and he turns his head to see Mercy picking up the books he'd thrown on the floor and laying them neatly on his desk. She even alphabetizes them by author. He looks back out towards the pond and mountains and trees, lifting his hand to scratch beneath his chin.

A timid knock sounds from the door, and he snuffs his cigarette out before going back inside. He gestures for Mercy to sit at one of the desks, and she does as she's told, never meeting his eyes. He opens the door, reaching out and taking the food tray from Peaches before slamming the door in his face.

On the tray is a hunk of meat, some berries, and a plastic cup with water. He places the tray in front of her, taking a seat in the chair next to her. She finally meets his eyes then, her brows furrowed and eyes dark. She sits with her back straight, hands folded in her lap, and chin jutted forward.

"Eat it," he orders, though softly, "I know you're hungry."

Her eyes briefly glance over the meat, throat bobbing as she swallows, before looking back to him.

"It's just deer meat," he says.

She lifts her shaky hands, signing to him. " _What's in the water?_ "

 _She hasn't seen me in weeks, and that's the first thing she says to me?_ "There isn't any Bliss in it, if that's what you're wanting to know."

She's still for only a moment before grabbing the meat in her hands and ripping into it with her teeth like an animal. She's so ravenous that she devours the meal in mere minutes. She grabs the cup, gulping down the water greedily. When she's done, they just sit there in a mutual silence.

She suddenly looks at him, her eyes shining like glass. " _Why did you lie to me?_ " she signs.

His nostrils flare. "Me?!" He slams his fist on the desk, causing her to flinch and look away from him. " _You're_ the one who showed up in that church to cuff Joseph. _Your family_." Though he's angry, his tone remains even, calm, _dark_.

" _He's killing and hurting people._ "

"He's doing what needs to be done," he clarifies. "He knows what's coming. He's doing everything he can to protect the people of Hope County."

" _This isn't the way._ "

"It's the _only_ way!" He raises his voice at her, a whimper escaping her throat as she turns her face away. Her hair falls from her shoulder, hiding her face from him. "Do you have any idea what you're doing? You're ripping my family apart, Mercy. _Our_ family." He leans forward, hovering over her. "If you knew what he wants me to do to you… You should be grateful that I'm giving you another chance. He trusted you. _I_ trusted you."

She sobs, standing so suddenly that she knocks her chair over. She backs away from him, clear across the room, before raising her hands to sign. " _Don't act like you and your siblings are the only victims here. You used me, made me believe that I was loved and wanted. John cut into me and Faith manipulated me. You all took and tortured my friends. I'm not just some…_ " But now her hands are shaking so hard that he can barely tell what she's trying to say. She covers her face, sobbing uncontrollably and turns away from him.

His fist clenches against his thigh, and he looks to the floor. He knew that his brother and Faith would abuse her from the beginning. Jacob had hoped that she would've come to him first, to seek his forgiveness, to tell him that she was wrong. Before all this, he'd tried his best to protect her from it all. It was easy back then.

He stands, approaching her and laying his hands gently on her shoulders, and she lowers her hands. He leans over from behind her, pressing soft kisses to her jaw. "I know. I know that it's hard to understand why this is happening." Her sobs begin to quiet. "Everything has its purpose. You may not realize it now, but you will. I promise. I'll take you to Joseph, and he'll be able to explain everything to you. But I need you to be _strong_ right now." The song continues to play over the speakers, and the groaning of his prisoners does nothing to settle the mood stifling the air. He separates from her to close the doors to the balcony. Though the music can still be heard, it's soft enough not to intrude on them.

He approaches her again, standing in front of her. She's so much smaller compared to him, soft where he's hard. The world seems to disappear in that moment, leaving nothing but her in his wake. He wants nothing more than for her to look at him, so he lifts a finger to her chin, gently tilting it upwards. He leans forward, kissing her closed eyes with a tenderness he saves exclusively for her.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'm so sorry." He moves his hands to her cheeks, stroking the delicate skin beneath her eyes with his thumbs, wiping the wetness from her tears away. Unable to hold himself back, he kisses her. He presses his lips to hers so softly. He's only there for a second before pulling back and looking at her face. Her eyes are still closed, lips parted slightly. He kisses her again, harder this time.

When he separates from her again, she grasps the front of his jacket within her fists, yanking him back to her. She opens her mouth and takes his lower lip between her teeth. He breathes in deep and sharp, and his tongue darts out to invade her mouth. She pulls him closer, and he obliges her by closing the distance between them. He wraps an arm around her waist, hand resting in the dip above her ass. He is breathless and dizzy, and their kiss is becoming clumsy, teeth clashing together. He forces his leg in between hers, pressing their bodies against each other. He feels her everywhere. Her breasts against his chest, her rubbing herself against his leg. He moves away from her mouth, down her jaw, back to her ear. When he lays openmouthed kisses to her neck, she moans, and he thinks his chest is going to explode. He presses himself into her once. Twice. He's so hard for her.

"I want you," he growls, breathless. His fingers dance across the skin of her back beneath her sweater, nails lightly digging into her flesh. She pushes his jacket off his shoulders, and he indulges her by shrugging it off and letting it pool at their feet. He'll be damned if he's the first one getting naked, though. He grabs the hem of her sweater and pulls it over her head.

His blood boils when he sees the words _WRATH_ and _LUST_ carved into her chest, red and angry against her leans over her, kissing and licking the wounds as though he can somehow ease the pain caused from them. He groans when she grinds her hips harder against his thigh, her hoarse mewls sending pleasurable shocks to his groin.

"So needy," he purrs, grasping her hips firmly to still them. "Calm down, Pup. I'll help you with your release soon." His hands move to her sports bra, pulling it off in one fluid motion. He grabs her ass in both hands and hoists her up, her legs instinctually wrapping around his waist. While one hand moves to her thigh, the other glides up her spine. He dips his head in order to take a dusky pink nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth until it beads. Her arms wrap around his neck, hands moving to the back of his head to keep him in his place. He chuckles while he laves her sensitive peak with his tongue.

He walks across the room to the bed, laying her down over the dark unkempt blanket. He settles himself between her legs, leaning over and lightly sucking on her bottom lip. He feels her pulling insistently on the front of his shirt, silently begging him to remove the article of clothing. He separates from her to reach behind his head and pull his shirt off. The cold metal of his dog tags nip into the flesh of his chest, but when she sits up to bite and suck on a sweet spot on his neck his skin burns with the heat of a thousand suns.

He shoves her back against the pillow, lifting her legs so that he can untie her boots. His hands are shaking so bad that he can barely unlace them before pulling them off and throwing them across the room. She tries to sit up again to unbuckle his belt, but he places a hand between her breasts and pushes her back once again. He unbuttons her jeans and hooks his fingers under the waistband and through her underwear, peeling them from her legs.

He doesn't even take the time to take in her gloriously naked form before he hooks her legs over his shoulders. He can already smell her, her earthy scent making his mouth water and setting his blood on fire. He leans down, experimentally sliding his tongue across her slit. God, how he _needs_ her. He wraps an arm around her waist and uses his fingers to open her folds to his hungry gaze. With the tip of his tongue, he lightly teases her swollen clit, knowing that it's not near as much stimulation that she wants. Despite this, she cries out, legs quivering as an orgasm overtakes her.

He smirks, pulling his tongue away from her clit to lick and nip at the inside of her thighs. He glances up at her from between her legs, watching as her chest rises and falls as she breathes deeply. "You already came, huh? That's alright," he says. Her breath hitches turning into a moan when he inserts a finger in her cunt. _She's so wet,_ he thinks, inserting a second finger. "You'll do that for me a few more times before I'm done with you." He growls as her inner walls clench around his fingers when he begins working them inside her, wanting desperately to bury his cock in her. God, he's _leaking_ like a horny teenager, he wants her so bad.

He lowers his mouth back to her pussy, his tongue pushing through her folds aggressively, giving her one large lap. She moans loudly as her hands tangle in his hair. She rocks her hips against him as he eats her, as he sucks on her clit. Hearing her moans and feeling her squirm against him makes him snicker as he continues to drive his fingers in her. And, _fuck_ , her cunt is practically dripping, and he groans in pleasure. Over the past few weeks, he'd had nothing but his hand and the memory of how her velvety walls tighten around his tongue, her intoxicating taste, her sexy moans to get himself off. This is better than any memory he can possibly conjure in his lust addled thoughts. He twirls his tongue around her sensitive little nub, and she sighs, arching her back off the mattress.

He pulls away from her slightly to look at her rosy engorged clit, begging for his tongue to return and pleasure it. He places a wet openmouthed kiss to it while he plunges his fingers deeper inside her. She gasps as his tongue goes right back to work stroking her with newfound vigor.

He laughs against her clit, making her rock harder against him. He pulls away from her one last time. "You're about to come again, aren't you? I can feel it from the way your cunt is squeezing my fingers. Come for me, Pup. Come in my mouth."

He sucks her back into his mouth, hooking his fingers inside her just the way that she likes it. She twitches and tightens and clamps her legs so tightly around his head that he thinks she could snap his neck if she wanted to. And what a fucking way to go, with his head buried between his wife's legs as she peaks.

He withdraws his fingers from her once her legs become slack. He gently unhooks her legs from his shoulders and unbuckles his belt. He's far from done with her tonight. Once he's freed himself from the rest of his clothing, he grasps her waist and flips her over onto her stomach. He pulls her hips up until she's on all fours, sliding one of his hands up the arch of her back and between her shoulder blades. He takes himself in hand and thrusts into her sodden heat in one long stroke until he's fully sheathed inside her. She hisses, though he's not sure if it's from pain or pleasure or some mixture of both. She pushes herself back against him, though, desperate to press as much of herself against him as she can.

He wraps an arm tightly around her waist to hold her in place, and he leans over to press all of himself against her back, nipping at the nape of her neck while his other hand reaches around her stomach between her breasts and lightly clasps around her neck. She grinds her hips back against him, making them both groan out their pleasure.

"Fuck, Mercy," he rasps, lowering his hand at her waist to her mound.

Her pussy tightens around him when his fingers part her lips, and he hasn't even touched her clit yet. She's drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, her virtuous demeanor completely stripped away until it's revealed something animalistic and beautiful. Something so excruciatingly mesmerizing. Something _sinful_. He'd been strangely drawn to her since he met her, and he never really understood why. Except during moments like this when she tears her chest open and shows him the deepest reaches of her heart… God, how it makes him _want_.

A long, throaty moan escapes her as his fingers _finally_ stroke her hypersensitive little clit. It's practically throbbing her heart is beating so fast, heat slick with her need.

She whimpers, touching her fingertips to her lips then her cheekbone. She reaches back to grope at the damp skin of his side, eager for more contact as she turns her head towards his face.

He knows what she wants, and Jacob lifts his arm back to her waist and hoists her up as he sits back on his heels. Her ass is pressed firmly in his lap, with her knees perched on either side of his own. Mercy trembles and whimpers as she reaches back to encircle her arms around his neck and arch her back. She turns her head once again, silently requesting a kiss. Jacob indulges her as he sinks his mouth to hers, his body rejoicing with how utterly whole he feels within her. The hand around her waist wanders back down to her pussy, his other hand around her neck drifting to her breast, his thumb flicking and teasing her hard nipple. His body _aches_ to feel the release of weeks of pent up sexual frustration, but he holds himself still, wanting this to last longer.

It's Mercy who loses control of herself before he does, nails digging into his neck as she throws her head back against his shoulder. Her lips are parted, drawing in deep shuddering breaths as she lifts herself up his throbbing dick to bring herself crashing back down against him. Jacob presses openmouthed kisses to her neck and shoulder, scraping her skin with his teeth with the intent to leave her marked so that she'll remember the pleasure he brought her when she looks in the mirror in the morning, so that if anyone sees the mark she won't be able to deny what she did with him.

"Mercy," he growls, barely aware of anything he's saying, "Pup, you feel so fucking good. I could fuck you like this for the rest of my life."

She whimpers something that sounds almost like a sob as her cunt grips his cock so tightly it's almost painful. She holds her breath, her whole body tensing and shuddering and frozen, and he holds her closely to him in his embrace, thrusting up hard into her and throwing her over the edge she's teetering off of. She cries out her release, and her intense contractions _almost_ finish him off as well, but he bites down on her shoulder to keep himself from it, still not completely satisfied.

He wants to see her face, look her in the eyes as he comes.

He pulls her up off of him, turning her around and laying her gently on her back. She looks so dazed out of her mind from the pleasure he's given her, flushed red, and eyes like dark amethysts in the dim light of the room.

He licks his lips, the taste of her still on him as he casts his eyes down the length of her body. He doesn't understand how someone can be this beautiful, this damn perfect. Even though her hair is in complete disarray, and her sweat-soaked skin glows – no, _because_ of all that – she looks just as, if not more so, exquisite as the day he met her.

He grasps her hips and yanks her closer to him, making her squeal in delight as the sheets gather around her. Her perfect breasts with their perfect nipples rise and fall as she breathes rapidly.

"Spread your legs," he orders, and her eyes lock with his before she slowly parts her thighs for him.

He moves until his knee is beneath her thigh and pushes her leg up and over his, pushing her legs further apart. He places his hands on the mattress on either side of her head, grinning down at her dangerously.

She reaches up, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him heatedly, her beaded nipples stroking against his chest, and he can feel the wetness of her cunt sliding against his throbbing manhood.

Mercy breaks their kiss, throwing her head back and crying out in pleasure as her back arches, pressing her breasts flat against him. Jacob moans as he slides his arm around her, holding her to him, before lowering the both of them back down and rubbing himself against her.

 _I could come like this,_ he thinks helplessly, _She feels so fucking good._ Jacob lifts himself from her, pressing his lips to hers.

He grasps her wrists in one of his hands, pinning them to the mattress above her head. He takes himself in hand and basks in his pride when her eyes trail down his body appreciatively to where he's touching himself. He fondles himself, taking labored breaths before positioning himself at her entrance. He strokes the tip of his cock against her slit, coating it in her wetness. Mercy writhes within his grasp, and he chuckles as he looks down at her. She moans, screwing her eyes shut as he continues to tease her.

"Look at me," he commands, and the vulnerability in his tone makes shame blossom across his skin. Though when Mercy's eyes fly open, the feeling disappears.

The sound that escapes him is feral and deep as he pushes the head of his cock into her, and her body yields to him. She lets out a breath as he fills her, so suddenly he almost thinks it's a sob.

Jacob freezes, eyes boring into her own as his arms tremble from strain.

She hisses through her teeth, and he releases his hold on her wrists so that he can stroke his hand down her stomach to where their bodies are joined, his thumb rubbing her clit. He puts his weight on his arm so that he has easier access to touch her between her legs. He gently strokes small circles against her nub, withdrawing a little from her before slowly pushing himself back in.

He lightly thrusts into her until he is more fully inside her. He changes his angle then, thrusting up as well as into her, and Mercy very nearly screams, bucking her hips to meet his next thrust.

"Mercy," he growls, as he pushes deeper within her. He feels his balls slap against her, indicating that he is fully within her.

She moans in reply to him, reaching for him. He pulls her close, leaning down to kiss her fiercely before withdrawing and thrusting back in, a long, superb slide of his throbbing cock causing her to whimper and grind against him. He can feel her inner walls tightening around him, warning him that her orgasm is drawing near.

He separates from her to gaze into her eyes, his thumb stroking her clit harder and fucking her so intensely that he's practically reaming her.

She cries out as her pussy flutters around his cock, her nails sure to leave marks on his back as they rake across his skin. She arches her back against him as her orgasm consumes her, continuing his thrusts to draw out her release and leaving her desperately gasping for breath.

His eyes don't leave hers, and she lowers one of her hands from around his neck to caress his cheek, watching him with adoring eyes as he continues his onslaught within her. He groans low from the back of his throat as the pleasure builds in his groin before claiming her mouth in a searing kiss. He tenses all over his body, practically roaring as he reaches his peak, his cock pulsing deep inside her and making his heart sing.

He collapses on top of her once he's rode out his orgasm, burying his face in the crook of her neck, and Mercy wraps her arms around him, fingertips lightly grazing against his back. The feel of her body beneath his, so soft and small, sends a jolt of unexpected joy up his spine, consuming him.

He rolls off of her after a few moments, the bed so small that they are just a knot of entangled limbs. He pulls the blanket out from under them, wrapping it around them. His arms enclose around her, as he studies her face, still flushed from their lovemaking. He brings a hand up to gently stroke her cheekbone, placing a light kiss to her lips.

"Please, don't leave me again," he says in a pitiful moment of weakness.

She grimaces, her eyes becoming glossy, and she swallows loudly. " _I won't_ ," she signs.

And he knows, she's lying.

 ** _Author's Note:_** So, I do have a full fic in mind to go with this oneshot, but depending on how well this does will determine whether or not I actually start writing it. So, be sure to favorite and review if you would like to see more Jacob and Mercy. I feel like this fandom severely lacks Jacob smutty goodness and I wanna contribute.


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